


A Slip

by ancalime8301



Series: Legacy [21]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Minor Injuries, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-07-07
Updated: 2003-07-07
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:04:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6844177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ancalime8301/pseuds/ancalime8301
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frodo has a little accident while getting out of the bath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Slip

Sam's presence greatly improved Frodo's variable mood, and the Elves of Rivendell were pleased that Sam provided such a pleasant distraction to the restless hobbit. Frodo prodded him often for every detail of all that had transpired in the Shire while he was gone, and delighted in teasing him about his affections for Rosie. Their discussions occupied him far longer than even the most riveting tomes from the expansive library, his discomfort and dislike of his imposed restrictions soon distracting his attention from the words before him and making him irritable and short-tempered.

Bilbo had tried to hold the attention of his fidgety nephew, but his frequent naps often disrupted his tales, leaving Frodo quite dissatisfied and demanding other entertainment. But Sam provided welcome relief to those attending the pregnant hobbit, showing a distinct talent for drawing his master's attention away from himself and his present burden to some of the ridiculous antics of Merry and Pippin or the current gossip being spread at the taverns.

Frodo continued his practice of daily baths, not necessarily because he needed them, but because it was one of the few things Elrond allowed him out of bed for, and the water supported much of the child's growing weight to give his back a break and felt so good on his skin, besides. He usually took Sam with him, though Sam refused to bathe in that pool despite Frodo's frequent invitations, for fear of drowning, so Frodo humoured him and instead insisted that Sam help him bathe from where he was.

By the time Sam had been in Rivendell a week, Frodo had him washing his hair, his back, and his feet. The feet had come last, and though Sam had given him a slightly odd look at the request, Frodo argued quite persuasively that it was only because he couldn't really reach them anymore. Sam had to admit that he was right, and while watching Frodo try to do it himself was rather amusing, he agreed to do it to save Frodo the hassle.

 

Sam had just finished with Frodo's second foot and dropped it back into the water, Frodo still lazily floating on his back, not quite ready to leave the water's warm embrace. Finally he sighed and righted himself, hopping on tiptoe over to the stairs in the corner and beginning to ascend, while Sam went to fetch the towel from the bench along the wall. Hearing a small gasp and a considerable splash, Sam turned to see Frodo surfacing again, the water rippling with angry waves, while Frodo looked pale and shaken. "What's wrong?" Sam asked anxiously as he hurried to the pool's edge, a million possibilities charging through his mind.

"I- I slipped," Frodo managed dazedly.

"Are you all right?" Sam pressed.

After a moment, Frodo nodded slowly. "Yes, I think so..."

"Then let's get you out and dried off," Sam urged. "And we can have Lord Elrond take a look at you to be sure."

Frodo didn't answer, but grasped the stair rail again and gathered his legs underneath him to climb out. He took one step and began to take another but stopped as a pained look crossed his face. "I think I've done something to my ankle," he muttered despairingly, taking the weight off his left foot.

"Here, let me help you," Sam said, wading down the stairs. With Sam's aid Frodo made it up to the top by gingerly hop-stepping; Sam laid out the towel and had Frodo lie down, covered with his robe, while he went to fetch Lord Elrond.

While Sam was gone, Frodo tried hard not to panic, but he couldn't feel any movement from the babe and that worried him. What if something had happened? Was it all right? His stomach did a slow, nauseating flop as all the terrible possibilities raced through his mind, and he wished someone were there to tell him everything was all right. His hands were shaking, and he could feel hot tears starting to trickle into his hair even as he told himself over and over that there is nothing to worry about, the babe is just sleeping...

At long last Sam returned, followed moments later by Elrond. Sam sat beside him and gently held his hand, drying the wayward tears and whispering reassurances. Elrond laid a calming hand on Frodo's shoulder as he knelt opposite Sam and Frodo felt a measure of calm seeping into him. By the time the elven lord spoke, he was not nearly so frightened. "Now, Frodo, what happened?"

"I slipped getting out of the water..." he answered shakily.

"Can you tell me exactly how it happened?" he continued soothingly.

"I-I don't know... my foot slipped, and I tried to hold onto the rail, but I fell anyway."

"Where is the pain?"

"My-my ankle..."

"Does it hurt anywhere else? Like your arm, from trying to hold on?"

Frodo thought a minute, then moved his arm experimentally, grimacing. "Yes, my arm too."

Elrond carefully massaged up Frodo's arm and prodded at his shoulder before moving down to inspect the offending ankle. He did not need to ask which one, for the left was already beginning to swell and angry bruises had started to form on the side of the foot. Frodo winced as Elrond touched his ankle, feeling the extent of the damage. "Do not worry, Frodo. It appears to be a simple sprain, and you've bruised the foot and wrenched your arm a bit, but that is all," he assured his patient, moving back into Frodo's range of sight.

"Now, is that the extent of your worries?" He had observed Frodo's great anxiety before and probed for the cause. "Is there any pain here?" he asked, placing his hand gently upon the hobbit's prominent abdomen.

When the baby kicked at the foreign touch, Frodo broke into a relieved smile. "No," he said softly. "No pain there."

"Good. But I shall want to keep a closer eye on you for the next several days." Frodo nodded in understanding, not particularly caring at the moment, content in the knowledge that the babe was alive and kicking. "Sam, would you assist me?" Elrond requested, moving to help Frodo sit up.

"Once we have you in your robe, I will take you back to your room and wrap that ankle." He held Frodo's gaze as Sam began helping him get the robe on. "Understand that you will not be leaving your bed now for at least a week or two, most likely not until after the child is birthed."

Frodo's jaw dropped and he started to object, but Elrond smoothly interjected, "Your ankle should not bear weight for one week at minimum, and I expect the babe will come soon after that week is completed. No arguments. I will not negotiate on this, for your sake and the child's." Frodo moved to cross his arms obstinately, but winced and decided against it.

"All right," he groused reluctantly as Elrond picked him up and headed for his room, Sam following behind. Halfway there, a new thought occurred to Frodo and he startled, nearly causing Elrond to drop him. "But what about my baths?!" he cried in dismay.

Elrond gave him a stern look. "No baths."

Frodo pouted the rest of the way to his room.


End file.
